


Kind Lies, Big Lies, & Conspiracies

by Littlewinns



Series: Kind Lies & Harsh Truths [2]
Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: F/M, It's Karaoke Night!, More Realtionships Will Be Added Later, Reign is not canon here, THAT Karaoke Night
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-28
Updated: 2019-10-25
Packaged: 2020-09-28 15:03:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 19,700
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20427908
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Littlewinns/pseuds/Littlewinns
Summary: It's Karaoke Night, Lena's feeling awkward, and Winn's odd behavior recently hasn't been doing anything to help her paranoia.And then, Winn gets some bad news; and somehow, it gets worse before it gets better.





	1. Chapter 1

Lena was overdressed for karaoke.

_No, you're not_, explained the Luthor Within - the cynical, superior, angry voice in her mind that hated everything and everyone, and Lena most of all.

It was right.

She wasn't overdressed for karaoke. The black, off-the-shoulder dress and its low neckline would have been perfect for the karaoke bars she'd visited with Jack on their fact-finding trips to Tokyo and Seoul.

What she was overdressed for, she realised, was _AL'S BAR_.

_How ROMANTIC. He's brought you to a karaoke night at a dive bar. An ALIEN dive bar_, the Luthor Within snarked, _And he's dressed like a slob._

He wasn't. Well, not exactly. Lena had to admit that while the hoodie and t-shirt combination wasn't working for him as well as she might like, it had apparently been a rough 48 hours at the DEO. She hadn't been able to see him at all since Monday night - _Oh God, Monday night_ \- so if Winn needed to feel comfortable, he'd probably earned it.

The venue, though, was a different matter. She'd been nervous about it since she'd gotten Winn's text - a Luthor, in an _alien_ bar? - but he'd told her it would be okay; and that Mon-El, who tended bar here, would bounce anyone who got out of line. And now that she was here, it wasn't really _that_ bad; it had a nice atmosphere, and an array of new and interesting cocktails to try.

She'd just been hoping for something a little more high-end, and a little less... adhesive.

The bar's main saving grace, however, was Winn. Winn _belonged_ here. He seemed to belong at this bar more than Lena had ever belonged anywhere in her life. He seemed to know _everyone_, and everyone knew him. Every few moments, yet another person - human or alien - would say hi, and Winn would respond in kind, often in their own language - and Winn seemed to know a few words in _every_ language-

Lena felt a familiar, intense warmth fill her body. She'd only recently learned the full extent of Winn's polyglot genius, and she LIKED it. She liked it A LOT.

-and if he knew them much at all, they got introduced to Lena, last name and everything; every time with a goofy, proud grin on his face.

Most were polite, and some were incredibly grateful - they'd had friends who'd been killed by the Medusa virus, in that very bar - but some hadn't been welcoming at all, even outright rude. 

At first. 

But then Winn let them know how disappointed he was with their behaviour, and they apologised. 

Because Winn asked them to.

He asked them to, and then it was done. A part of her wondered if this was the good version of what it was like to be a gangster's moll.

It took courage to bring a Luthor to an alien bar. But knowing that everything would be fine, simply because you were the one taking her? THAT was-

Yeah. That warmth wasn't going away for a while.

_It's got nothing to do with him. It's Mon-El, and Alex, and Supergirl, and 'Guardian'-_

Guardian. He would be here soon. James hadn't taken the news that Winn had told her about his side job particularly well, except that Winn hadn't told her: he'd just described that he worked with the vigilante, and Lena had connected the dots. James hadn't taken it _badly_, at least not overtly; he was now just... distantly polite. It was a pity. She'd thought they were developing a good working relationship.

Ordering him to pass off the Guardian stories to other reporters hadn't helped; but she'd had to protect her investment at Catco somehow.

She brought her attention back to Winn. James might have been a hero, but Winn was certainly no coward, least of all here. As she nursed a pleasant drink she'd already forgotten how to pronounce, she watched him play Good Cop with some slick asshole in a vest who was giving a girl at the bar a hard time; with Kara, surprisingly, as the Bad Cop. While Kara got confrontational, Winn tried to calm him down; offering him a drink, and a table to sit at and talk over his problems. But the man - who seemed oddly familiar, what was his name? - wouldn't take him up on it.

"Are you two seeing this?" she said to Alex and Maggie at the same table, who didn't reply, transfixed as they were by two college kids hogging _their_ pool table. 

As she asked, Lena heard the man at the bar say the words, "Earth traitors," and the previously-conciliatory Winn turned on a dime.

"MAGGIE!" he yelled from across the bar.

Lena moved to get to her feet; but Maggie, coming out of her hawk-like trance in an instant, waved her down.

"I got this," she said, and approached the scene, badge in hand, with Mon-El appearing from out back moments later.

_Your so-called friends are cutting you out._

They weren't. Yes, they were protective of Winn - and knowing Winn's previous girlfriends, with good reason - and yes, they wouldn't accept her offers of help with party prep, or wedding prep, or fetching more drinks, or even picking up the bar tab, which seemed especially odd-

_Yes, they are. They're making it easier for him to break up with you._

No. That was ridiculous. Lena was certain Winn wasn't planning on-

_Really? Then why hasn't he-_ the Luthor Within began, before Alex cut off its train of thought.

"So, how are you doing?" she asked.

Lena searched for some words as she took a sip of her drink, "Fine."

They watched Mon-El manhandle the obnoxious man out of the bar.

"And Winn? Did you guys have plans Monday night? He seemed pretty pissed. Is everything okay?"

Monday night had not been okay. Monday night had not been remotely okay. Monday night had been, in fact, almost the exact opposite of okay.

"It was fine. I understand what happened," she lied.

"I'm glad. And you!" Alex exclaimed pointedly at Winn, as they came back to the table. He threw up his arms in protest; to which Alex responded incredulously, "'Maggie'?"

"What? I thought she could... de-escalate the situation; and not, you know, like, rip the guy's heart out and feed it to him." Some things had made a lot more sense since Winn had confirmed that Alex was DEO instead of FBI. It closed the gap on how Kara had Supergirl as a source, for one thing.

"It's okay, Danvers," Maggie teased, patting Alex's hand gently, "I just keep my cool better in a crisis, that's all."

Kara and Winn giggled at Maggie's obvious attempt to get a rise out of her fiancée. As he sat, Winn took Lena's hand in his own, and gripped it gently. More tingles.

The Luthor Within pulled Lena's hand away. She couldn't do this right this now.

"I keep my cool just _fine_ in a crisis, I think you'll find-" Alex continued.

"BEN LOCKWOOD!" 

The entire table was now looking at Lena - except Alex, who considered Lena's outburst, and then nodded in shared recognition.

"Sorry. I recognised that man," Lena explained; draining her drink, and holding up the empty glass. "Can I get another of whatever this is?"

"_Caught in a trap... I can't walk out..._"

More drinks had been ordered, and songs had been sung. Kara had already yelled her way through a 90s hip-hop classic, James had declared his love for Jessie's Girl, Alex had either serenaded - or embarrassed - Maggie over her True Colours; and Lena, once again, flipped through the songbook, pretending to find something to sing, while J'onn's father - Mr. J, Winn called him - warbled his way one of Elvis Presley's finest hours.

Lena liked Mr. J. It had been awkward at first; he seemed very much like a doddering old man - a lot of confused ideas and run-on sentences - and Lena hadn't really known how to respond to any of it. But then, Mr. J had asked her a single question, and it had changed everything:

"Do you know this game? Chess?"

Why, yes. Yes, Sir; she did indeed.

Mr.J reminded her, in a way, of her own father, during the quieter, Lillian-free moments of her childhood; when he would feel comfortable reading her stories - okay, electronic-engineering manuals - and then they would raid the kitchen's ice-cream stores together. 

"You know, you don't have to if you don't want to," Winn said, interrupting her thoughts. This was her favourite version of Winn - all wide-eyes and earnest smile - and she pushed her long hair behind her ear to get a better view of him.

"It's okay. I want to," she told him, and she did. She'd done karaoke before. But everything was wrong here. There were so many songs, so many _artists_ that she didn't know; she hadn't even bought an album since she was seventeen. 

And while going up on that stage would be easier for a song she knew, she wasn't nearly a good enough singer to pull off karaoke in _this dress_. 

This dress commanded attention. This dress would tell the crowd she owned the stage. And right now, she didn't want to do either. Maybe if it wasn't a dive bar, or if she had dressed a little more demure, or...

"I'm not just saying this; it really is okay," he said, and she wanted to believe him; she really did, "Look at Maggie."

Lena looked over at Detective Sawyer, who had more than one empty glass in front of her. "You're not singing?"

"I don't sing," Maggie said, dryly, downing another shot, "I drink."

Lena knew Winn wanted to mean it. But she and the Luthor Within agreed on this: if she didn't sing, Winn was going to be disappointed in her, just a little; and that was the last thing she wanted right now.

"I'll find something. What about you? You haven't sung yet."

"I'm going on in a bit," he said.

"Oh, are you now?" she asked him, accusingly.

"He has to go on late," Alex said, stealing one of Maggie's shots, "He showboats."

"I do not showboat," he protested.

"You kinda do," Kara added, making a silent offer of more drinks before heading over to the bar.

"I... work with the crowd."

"Exactly! Showboating!" Alex said, knocking the shot back. Lena beheld the pause, and tried to change the subject.

"So, do you want to get lunch tomorrow?" she asked Winn, and all of a sudden, his body language tightened.

"Uh, I can't," he replied, "I'm meeting Kara."

Lena knew she had nothing to worry about; Winn had told her all about what had happened between them. It had been years, he'd said. But the Luthor Within revelled in paranoia, and dropped little doubts into her mind.

"Well, there's no reason we can't all get lunch together," she said, indulging her inner monster a little, "She is my friend too."

Winn shook his head - while avoiding eye contact, she noted - saying. "Nah, I gotta talk to her about something."

"What is it?"

"It's private," he said, with a certain finality. The air between them felt thick with what wasn't being said, but his eyes were apologetic; and they held it for a moment until a smattering of applause echoed around them, and they turned to the stage to see Mr. J searched for someone to hand the mic back to before trying to make his way down the stage steps.

Winn joined in the applause, harder than anyone else, with a resounding "WOOP!" Lena, as much as she and the Luthor Within had wanted to carry on their conversation - though for different reasons - added her own brief praise for Mr. J's performance.

"Okay, I'm up," Winn announced, and he leaned into kiss Lena's cheek; the Luthor Within trying to pull away even as Lena pushed herself toward him. He noted the ambivalance, but said nothing; and instead, he got out of his seat, and headed to the stage, patting Mr. J on the arm as he walked past. Mr. J barely had time to acknowledge Winn's presence before he was gone, before awkwardly stumbling back to the table.

"How're you doing, Dad?" J'onn asked. Mr. J nodded, shaken, and his son followed up. "See, I told you, you had nothing to worry about."

"Karaoke is not for the weak," Mr. J replied, clearly worse for wear, "It requires either great courage, or a complete lack of shame."

"FELLOW DRUNKS!" Winn suddenly bellowed from the stage, to roaring approval from the crowd; especially from Maggie, who saluted him by holding a shotglass aloft. The collective reaction made Lena laugh.

"Showboating," Alex said, proudly confirming her own hypothesis.

"Gonna do a little 'mood' music for you tonight," Winn announced, "Mister Karaoke Man, if you'd do the honours?"

A familiar guitar phrase sounded over the PA. Lena knew this. This was... 

This was *Lillian's* music. 

Lena used to hear it, late at night, emanating from behind the closed door of her mother's study; both in the weeks after her father's death, and again after Lex's arrest. One time, when Lena was fourteen, Lillian had left the door open, and Lena found her sitting with a large glass of whisky, staring into nothingness. Lena had wanted so much to go to her mother then; to comfort her; to let her know that she wasn't alone. 

Lillian, alas, had other ideas; and had told her in no uncertain terms.

It was the only time Lena had ever seen her mother cry.

Winn got into position on stage, not even looking at the monitor. Instead, his gaze was upon her, their eyes fixed, as though she were in a spotlight that only he could see; and that familiar warmth spread through her once more.

She didn't dare look away.

"_Rihannon rings like a bell through the night, and wouldn't you love to love her?_" Winn sang, as clear as that bell; and in a moment, the awkwardness of a few moments before was forgotten, and there was no-one in that bar but the two of them.

But then, something at the bar distracted him, breaking his gaze.

"_Takes to the sky like..._" he trailed off, a mix of confusion and horror on his face. Lena looked over to the bar; Kara was over there, leaning against the bar, with Mon-El behind it. Kara was focused on the television...

Lena heard a thump over the PA, and turned to see Winn had dropped the microphone and had bolted for the door. 

Before she could even knew what was happening, he was gone.


	2. Chapter 2

The Luthor Within had been dormant for quite some time.

Lena & Winn had been taking it slow, ever since that Saturday night & Sunday morning back in early December, when they had talked over their mutual admiration for each other and moulded it into something more substantial. 

Laying on a king-size bed in the Presidential suite of the Metropolis Hyatt - her in her pyjamas, him in his home-made dress shirt and pants that could put most fashion designers to shame - they gently explored each other's clothed bodies with their hands and their lips, and, in between moments, discussed the future. 

There was no point trying to keep their relationship a secret. Kara & Mon-El already knew, having walked in on their first kiss, so it was safe to assume everyone else would know in short time; and all the better, as it removed the temptation to keep things quiet. That, Lena knew, was one of Winn's biggest fears about their potential relationship - that she would feel too vulnerable revealing her feelings to go public with them - and although she knew that fear wasn't entirely unfounded, she also knew she would be better off with people knowing he was by her side, than with him not being by her side at all.

But neither one of them felt any need to hurry. Lena - never one to express a feeling where none would do - wanted to maintain some semblance of control over her emotions; she wasn't a flighty, fluffy-headed little girl, and she wasn't about to start acting like one. And Winn had, apparently, the worst history of rushing into things - an assessment she couldn't help but agree with, once she knew the details - so they agreed to take some time, enjoying each other's company. 

There was no rush. 

But, truth be told, if Lena had known then exactly _how_ slow they were going to take things, she might have renegotiated.

It had been six weeks. Six _wonderful_ weeks, she couldn't deny. They spent the rest of the long weekend in Metropolis side-by-side, enjoying quiet moments amongst the crowd while seeing a few sights or visiting the good bars; before kissing goodnight, and going to their rooms alone. Kara & Mon-El's rekindled romance having been moved to a separate floor - much to the relief of pretty much everyone - and Winn had taken the couple's 'reunion' bed.

Apparently, there had been some... damage. 

After the flight home to National City, things got a little more complicated. The two of them often had conflicting schedules: as a CEO for a Fortune 500 company, Lena had limits on her free time, and Winn couldn't expect her to structure her whole life around him; however, since Winn was also a secret agent, a key member of a rather vital emergency response team, AND operational support for a local vigilante; it was clear that scheduling was something they would both have to put some effort into.

They frequently shared lunch, or a late dinner, when they could: somewhere expensive if it was her choice; frequently an authentic world or off-world cuisine if it was his, usually - if it was an alien joint - run by people he knew. He seemed to take an interest in everything she did, and she enjoyed having the freedom to run on about the minutiae of L-Corp's latest breakthroughs without having to stop and explain things. 

In fact Winn, it seemed, took an interest in _everything_, and there were times where he would go on an enthusiastic tangent about Multiverse theory or Martian space-craft design when Lena found herself smiling, uncontrollably; to the point he would notice, stop, and give a little smile back, his brown eyes enraptured, and she could feel herself blush all the way down to her toes.

Other times, they stayed in. He would cook - he wasn't bad at it, and he was getting better - and they'd watch a movie. Winn had asked that they would watch all the Star Wars together, mindful that her previous experience with the series - where-in angry young men lost their battles with their inner demons and turned to evil - had not been her idea of escapism. But, since it was important to him, she had agreed; Winn showing them to her in an order that was neither numeric nor chronological, but seemed to make sense to him. When it wasn't Star Wars, she availed herself the rest of his sizable movie collection, with varying results.

_Dune_ was a disappointment. Apart from everything else, they'd inexplicably made Paul the lead character and not Jessica. Had they even _understood_ that book?

And, of course, it was December, which meant any number of festivities; not least of which was the official L-Corp party. A black tie event, Winn had managed to nod and smile politely at most of her high level employees and even some of her shareholders, but didn't exactly seem to be having the best time; at which point, Lena decided to introduce him to the martini, having personally instructed the bar-staff how to make them. Winn, clearly tipsy after having _one_, boldly took Lena's hand, informed her that they were going to dance, and led her to the dance floor; and then slowly, closely, _perfectly_, waltzed her around the room, never breaking eye contact with her, not even for for a second.

She would have felt awkward about that, if she had noticed anything besides her heart beating.

The martini had still given her a headache, dammit.

They'd even managed to spend a quiet Christmas - sorry, ChrisMUKKAH - together. They cooked a nice dinner together, and exchanged gifts: she got him a new set of precision tools, and the promise of a real suit from Saville Row on their long planned trip to London; and he gifted her what she could only describe as a masterpiece - an original Winslow Schott dress: practical enough for the office, stylish enough for evening, and capable of stopping a .223 caliber round at close range. 

It also had pockets. He was a thoughtful boy. 

After dinner, they watched some action movie about an idiot cop that Winn _claimed_ was a Christmas movie, but clearly wasn't; and they talked of family, and of faith: she'd described Christmas at the Mansion, and how four-year-old Lena had been told Santa Claus was a stupid lie only believed by simpleton children; and Winn explained why, while not being a man of strong faith, he still celebrated the religious traditions of both his parents, and how that sometimes clashed with the those of the foster homes he'd been to, and how he worked around it.

He talked about his father a lot. He barely mentioned his mother at all.

But then the evening drew to a close, and it ended, as every evening had ended; they kissed good-night, and then she went back to her hotel apartment. Alone.

It was beginning to wear thin.

She wasn't starved of physical intimacy, far from it. Winn was, unsurprisingly, an affectionate person. They kissed hello, and kissed goodnight, and hugged and cuddled and held each other. He seemed to just love _touching_ her, even lightly; idly holding her hand or stroking her hair. And it became more prominent when they were among friends; not clingy or possessive, more of a closeness that made it clear that they were an 'us' amongst the 'them', and sometimes - when he thought the others weren't looking - he would kiss her, deeply, in such a way that her spine would tingle for a minute afterward. 

Sometimes, it felt like he was trying to live out an adolescent romance with her; just enjoying the wholesome, mostly-innocent whirlwind of young love she imagined he'd been denied during his teenage years. It wasn't something she wanted to deny him now.

Except she wasn't a teenager. She was a grown woman, she had endured a significant dry spell, and she was _thirsty_. 

And somehow, Winn hadn't seemed to notice.

Which had, to some degree, informed some of her more daring neckline choices recently. But it was fine. It was what she had agreed to. She could cope.

Until Monday night.

Monday night had actually started on Sunday morning. They were at brunch, with Kara & Mon-El, and they'd gotten onto the subject of learning new languages. Lena told them of a particularly misanthropic French teacher who had successfully drilled the language into her, while simultaneously teaching her that languages were a subject for which Lena's temperament was not adequately suited. Winn - idly - happened to mention that while he could speak many languages, French wasn't one of them.

That was 11:15, Sunday morning. 

By 9:30 on Monday night, he was _fluent_.

There was no preamble, no warning; when she'd first heard the words come out of his mouth, Lena had thought she was having a stroke, but no - less than 36 hours later, Winn was casually asking her about her day, in her second language, with a flawless accent and at a pace Madame Martin would have begrudingly described as 'adequate'. And, she learned, after a few questions, this was not the steepest learning curve he'd ever had for a foreign tongue.

It was at that point that something gave way in Lena's brain; that tingling warmth spread like wildfire throughout her body, and she simply couldn't wait any longer.

"Could you bring us the check, please?" Lena efficiently commanded the waiter in her hotel's restaurant, the moment he sat their food down in front of them.

"Of course, Ms. Luthor," and he rushed off.

"**Are we not having dessert?**" Winn asked, hopeful.

"**Which dessert did you want?**" she said, her voice clipped and controlled, her face expressionless, her arms folded on the table in front of her, all giving nothing away. "**Nothing that requires utensils,**" she added, as the waiter brought the check back.

She just had to get through dinner. That was all she had to do.

"**There's the coffee-liquor chocolate mousse with the salted-caramel-**" Winn began, interrupted by the waiter.

"The chocolate mousse, sent up to my room in ninety minutes," she commanded; signing the check, and handing it back.

"Excellent choice, Ms. Luthor," and the waiter disappeared again.

"**You should be ready for the second course by then,**" she told Winn - privately enjoying her own double entendré - and then methodically, almost robotically, cut up her rack of lamb into bite-size chunks.

Winn was clearly confused by her behavior. But she couldn't explain this to him. Not in public.

She just had to get through dinner, and then invite him up to her room. 

THEN she could make herself clear.

"Are you okay?" he asked her, after a few minutes of silence between them. Lena, rhythmically alternating between her food and her wine, could only respond with the same monotone phrase she'd heard too many times, many years before:

"En français."

"**Is something wrong? Did I do something?**" he asked, all big eyes and heartfelt concern; as if he hadn't thoughtlessly - _thoughtlessly_ \- learned an entire foreign language in a day and a half and thus rendered her incapable of fully rational thought. How selfish could one man be?

"**Nothing's wrong. I'm just... hungry,**" she misled; emptying her wine, and cutting off the waiter as he tried to refill it. No more wine. It wasn't helping.

She let him awkwardly fill the silence with whatever happened to be on his mind - yes, still in French - until she had finished her meal; at which point, she wiped her lips with her napkin, stood up, decisively, and said, "**Follow me.**"

"**What?**" Winn asked, mid-forkful, as she walked away; the waiters taking away his unfinished plate along with hers the moment she stood up.

She quite enjoyed hearing his feeble protest for the rest of his food carry on to no avail behind her. It was the Luthors' world. Other people just happened to live in it.

He caught up with her near the elevator, not in a good mood. "Okay, something is definitely not right-"

"En françai-ais," she said, in Madame Martin's angry, sing-song voice, watching intensely as the floor numbers ticked down in front of her.

Winn sighed. "**If I've done something wrong, I want to know about it-**"

"**You haven't done anything wrong-**"

"**-Well, clearly, I have,**" he said, moving to stand between her and the elevator doors, "**And I'd like to offer my apologies for it-**"

The elevator reached the first floor, and the doors opened. Lena stepped around him, pressing the button for her floor with a practised motion.

"**Come along,**" she ordered. He dutifully followed behind her. 

Just a few more seconds. 

"**But I really can't think of what I might have done, and it's _really_ starting to freak me out-**"

The elevator doors slid together...

"**-and I just want you to _talk_ to me-**"

...and then closed.

NOW.

She grabbed Winn's shoulders, and threw him against the elevator wall; moving her hands up to his neck and hair as she pressed her lips against his, forcing her tongue into his open mouth; and was overjoyed as his confused self gave way to his more confident side, his arm looping around her waist and pulling her close, removing all space between them, lifting her just a little off her feet and crushing her chest against his own.

As the elevator reached full-speed, she broke the kiss, reaching for his tie. She brought her mischevious eyes onto Winn's breathless expression.

"Oo-hh," he said, realising; which Lena met with a 'You're getting it now?' nod, as she pulled his tie apart, and slid it from around his neck before kissing him again.

Three minutes later, they were in her room, on her bed; his enthusiasm pressing into her hip as he deftly unbuttoned her blouse with the fingers of one hand.

Ten minutes after that, she was holding onto the edge of her mattress as tightly as a cliff's edge; her blouse unbuttoned, her pants piled up on the floor, and with Winn's head fixed firmly between her legs, where he would spend the next ten minutes - ten GLORIOUS, _EXCRUCIATING_ minutes - demonstrating what that magnificent tongue of his could _really_ do.

It was heaven.

And then... he got a phone call.

Not a regular call, no. Those he kept on silent when they we together. This was a priority call, on the emergency line; the one that was only to be used when J'onn or Alex or Supergirl absolutely NEEDED him to pick up.

They needed him to pick up.

"Winn," she said, her voice carefully stripping itself of all emotion, "You need to get that."

He pressed harder on her with his tongue, and she yelped; biting down on the involuntary sound as it passed her lips.

"_Winn_," she repeated, doing her best to make it sound like an command.

He stopped, and she heard an exhausted sigh. Then he got up, wiped his mouth, and answered the damned phone.

"Yeah?"

Lena lay still on the bed, eavedropping on the one side of the conversation. Winn was NOT happy. But it didn't seem like he was angry with THEM.

"Look, I'm not actually an expert on banshees, it was just that one time-"

After maybe thirty seconds of weak argument, he told whoever was calling that he needed two minutes to finish up - not the most romantic thing she'd ever heard, she had to admit - then he hung up, and immediately returned to his position on his knees in front of her.

"Winn, I don't think that- oh..." she began, before the returning sensations interrupted her. And then, without much of a gentle introduction, he brought his hands into play - hands whose dexterity could be the envy of any surgeon - and it was a Whole. Different. World.

"Oh my Go-OD!" her body forced out of itself, the intensity of his touch catching her by surprise.

"En françai-ais..." she heard from below her waist, mocking her; before continuing his ministrations.

Lena didn't know if she wanted to murder him or marry him. He'd been holding out on her for six weeks. Six weeks they could have been doing this. For six weeks, they could have been kissing, and cuddling, and touching, and loving and loving and LOVING OH JESUS-

Her thoughts interrupted themselves as he brought her to climax. 

And then a second time.

And then a THIRD time, each more thunderous than the last.

She didn't know he could do this to her. She didn't know ANYONE could do this to her.

He slowed down, then stopped; finishing with a light kiss as she got her breath back, before awkwardly climbing to his feet.

As her mind climbed down, she was vaguely aware of him picking up his shirt, and draping it over himself.

"I have to go," he whispered, suddenly next to her; cupping her flushed, glowing face with his hand.

No. 

No, he couldn't. Not now. There was so much they could still do together, so much they still had to _feel_...

Please. Let the world end. Just stay with me.

Lena thought all these things; but her pleasure-addled mind could only articulate it as, "Huh?"

"I'm sorry," he said, kissing her on the cheek before hurrying out the door.

"Bu-" she uttered, doing her best to sit up; but it was too late. He was gone.

_REALLY? Like it can't wait the extra thirty seconds it'll take for you to finish? COME BACK AND RAVAGE ME, YOU COWARD!_ the Luthor Within screamed at him; not a word of it passing Lena's lips.

And that was how Monday night ended: with Lena lying on her bed, in bitter-sweet afterglow; riding Cloud 9, yet deeply dissatified; and with the voice of a paranoid sociopath in her head, mocking her for how it had all gone wrong.

The chocolate mousse turned out to be delicious.

For two days, her mind lingered over what had occured. Here was this kind, generous, brilliant, handsome man; who wasn't afraid of his own feelings and who wasn't afraid of hers; who was both affectionate and deserved affection; who was much more gracious in defeat than she was - although her Game Night Research Plan should put a stop to that problem soon enough; who had basically dedicated his life to the service of others; and who was willing to do anything for her or anyone else as a friend, and DEFINITELY capable of delivering multiple, mind-shattering orgasms on demand-

But, somehow, he didn't seem to want _her_.

It was ridiculous. Of course he wanted her. She'd seen it. She'd _felt_ it. But the Luthor Within had taken the initial panic and run with it; forming her absurd fears into a the beginnings of a paranoid conspiracy theory, where he was hiding something enormous from her, and everyone was in on it.

And as she watched him march out of the bar, it felt like all those fears had come true all at once.


	3. Chapter 3

Lena stared at the door as it slammed shut, frozen in place. The backing track played on for a moment or two, before Mister Karaoke Man shut it off. 

_GET UP._

The Luthor Within forced Lena to her feet. By the time she was stood, she had enough control of herself to track back, and identify the source of the problem.

The bar.

Taking powerful strides, she swiftly covered the space between the table and the bar; blocking people who considered the mistake of crossing her path. She reached Kara and Mon-El - and now James as well - in a fury.

"What the _hell_ was that?" the Luthor Within demanded.

"It's Winn's father," Kara said, in her bleeding-heart voice, as the hourly News Update on the TV came to a close. "He's dead."

_And that gets a Special News Bulletin?_ the Luthor Within questioned harshly, until Lena remembered that Winslow Schott Sr. had murdered at least six people; and, outside of her own family, that was an above-average number of murders for one person.

Somewhere in National City tonight, people would be celebrating.

But Winn wasn't going to be one of them.

"I got this," James said, putting his beer down on the bar with a determined thud.

"No," Lena told him, raising her hand to stop him, "I can handle this just fine." She purposefully ignored Mr. Olsen's fraction-of-a-second rolled-eyes; and then, with the full power of her murderous dynasty in her feet, she turned to the door, and stormed out to find Winn.

The bitter-cold January air hit her bare skin the moment she stepped outside, giving her chills. It was going to snow soon, she remembered. Lena considered going back for her coat, but the Luthor Within told her to ignore it. Winn wouldn't have gone far.

It was right. Just a few yards from the door, there was Winn; slumped against a dumpster, facing out into the night.

"Winn?" she called out, approaching him. Without turning, he stood up straight, shrugged his hoodie off his shoulders, and let it slide off his arms into his hands; then turned in a fluid motion, and laid it across her shoulders.

_See? All taken care of_, the Luthor Within gloated, as the both the fabric and the gesture warmed her.

"What are you doing out here without your coat? It's freezing," he said, goose-pimples already covering his now-bare arms instead of hers. As he pulled the faded red hoodie across her to make sure she was covered, his eyes continued the rest of the way down her dress, and he recoiled in horror.

"Oh, God, I just realised. I'm so sorry," he said, and she couldn't fathom what he could possibly be apologising for. "If I'd have known you were gonna get so dressed up," he continued, "I would have worn something else-"

"You think I care about that right now?" the Luthor Within sniped, Lena wishing she could have stopped the question two words earlier.

"*I* care! I don't wanna be one of those guys that doesn't make an effort, especially since you always bring your A-Game to everything-"

"Winn!" she exclaimed, interrupting him, "Your father just died! Do you think we could focus on that, while we're out here in the freezing cold?"

He turned away from her. "It doesn't matter," he said, clearly lying, "Like, he's just gone, okay? It doesn't change anything."

"Of course it does," she said.

"Really?" he snapped, "Please, name me the ways. I never called him. I never visited him. The last time I did see him, it was 'cause he escaped from prison and kidnapped me and told me to shoot some dude in the face, so really-"

"Don't you DARE speak to me like I'm one of those people!" the Luthor Within countered. Outburst over, Lena calmed herself. Winn had spoken about about his father a great deal. He'd told her about the escape, and how that had made him feel, and even how that had brought the situation with Kara to its humiliating conclusion. 

But he'd never mentioned a kidnapping before. It scared her, every time Winn provided a new revelation about his past. She considered herself an expert at hiding her pain; but, in spite of - or more likely, because of - Winn's open-heartedness, she needed constant reminders that he was actually a master. 

But it didn't help with the paranoia.

"You've never shut me out before, not like this," she said - despite her worst thoughts of the past few days, it wasn't an inaccurate statement - adding, "I am the person you can tell, remember? I am the one that knows you're allowed to miss him."

He looked back at her, seemingly filled with shame; and she wanted so badly to take those last few steps to him and hold him close, to envelope him, to offer him the kind of affection she could see he desperately needed. 

But she couldn't. If she held her body against his, as she had done just two nights before, she would end up thinking stupid, selfish thoughts that wouldn't help him. Just her.

_It would probably help him a little_, the Luthor Within argued.

Instead, Lena pulled Winn's hoodie tighter over herself, the scent of him seeping out from the fabric surrounding her, in the hope it might stave off the worst of her desires.

"Please, just talk to me. Tell me what you're feeling," she said, realising the irony of her next words, "You're usually so good at that."

He dropped himself against the dumpster once again, hands in his pockets; all the energy he'd had up on that stage having been drained out of him in the past few minutes.

"What am I supposed to be feeling? I don't feel anything, I don't think," he said, looking down at his sneakers.

Lena nodded in recognition. "Yes. I know it well."

"So, how did you get past it?" he asked her; and Lena reflected on Jack, and his death, and how hollow it had made her feel.

"I... threw myself into a new project," she answered; truthfully, but not honestly. Mentioning that said project accidentally caused the Daxamite invasion of Earth was unlikely to be helpful at this juncture.

"But I don't think that's going to work for you," she continued, gently leaning herself against the cold steel, "I think that this is a much bigger problem for you than mine was for me. This... this is your harsh truth."

Winn looked up at her, confused.

"That's what's changed. You've needed the kind lie, for what? Nearly twenty years? The one that told you he could be saved, no matter what he'd done? Well... it's gone now. You're never going to get your... Anakin Skywalker moment. You're never going to be able to save him. There was a part of you that needed that, remember? And now, it's been..." her mind struggled for the correct word, but could only conjure the wrong one.

"Debunked."

Winn, shivering in the cold, contemplated her words.

_He's going to fester on the Big Lie if you stop there_, the Luthor Within reminded her, and Lena cursed herself for it.

Winn had needed the Kind Lie - that perhaps, his father could redeem himself, as Darth Vader had done for Luke - in order to keep a much larger lie at bay.

A terrible lie. An obscene lie. A lie that not one person who had ever met Winn - not Lena, not Kara, not James or Alex or Maggie or perhaps even Lillian, of all people - could ever have believed, not in a million years; but that Winn believed with his whole heart, and could never be dissuaded from. 

The Big Lie.

That one day, Winn would give in to resentment, and to anger, and turn into the same monster his father did. And that there was nothing anyone could do to stop it.

The Kind Lie helped keep that Big Lie fenced-in, inside his mind; so he could cope with the rest of his life in relative peace. But his father's death had just weakened that fence, and then Lena had decided to give it an almighty shove.

Winn's shivering was evolving into shaking by now, aided as it was by grieving sobs.

"Winn?"

He didn't say anything, but he nodded; tears running down his cheeks.

"Do you want to go home and watch Return of the Jedi?"

Slowly, he nodded again.

"Then let's go," she said, offering her hand out to him. After a moment's pause, he took it in his. It was so cold.

Once they were back inside, goodbyes were given, and comforting hugs were exchanged - Kara's just a fraction longer than the others, the Luthor Within noted - and soon, they were both in Lena's town car, being driven to his apartment.

"Are you okay?"

Startled by the break in the silence, Lena shifted over in her seat, firmly pressing herself against his still-shivering form, clasping her hands around his to warm them.

"You shouldn't be worrying about me right now."

_There's something else that could warm him up_, the Luthor Within suggested; but Lena ignored it. He didn't need that right now... no matter how much she might want him to. She'd been down this road before, that very first night they were together. It would be a mistake.

Yes, definitely a mistake.

Probably.

Perhaps.

By the time they were in his apartment, she'd argued herself down to a maybe.

"What number is it?" she asked, perusing the movie collection as Winn dumped his hoodie over the kitchen counter.

"Six," he said, "Or just pick whatever. I just need something to take my mind off things, is all. I'm gonna go get the heater and the comforter from the bedroom, okay?"

"Sure," she said, pretending to scan the shelves.

As he stepped out, there was only one thought in her mind:

_Something to take his mind off things?_

She considered the thought. He didn't exactly seem... enthused.

_He NEEDS this. YOU need this. It won't be like it was last time._

Lena examined the possibilities, then made her choice. Within moments, her coat was unclasped and thrown onto the floor; and, as Winn was busy in his bedroom, she unzipped her dress, quickly pulled her arms out of its sleeves and pushed the rest of it down her waist and over her hips, stepping out of it once it was piled around her ankles, and shaking it into a pile with her discarded coat using her right foot.

Then, standing in Winn's living room, wearing nothing but her strapless bra, its matching panties, and her Jimmy Choos; she quickly assessed lighting options. The Christmas lights were still up, but since they'd been there the whole time she and Winn had been dating, and were screwed into the wall, they seemed like a permanent fixture; like in the dorm rooms she'd visited back in college. 

They seemed like the best option, so she quickly - with more inconvenient bouncing than she would have liked, unavoidable given her state of dress - reached down by the sofa for the little switch, going for the reading lamp as well as she did so. She then sped over to switch the main lamp off, before positioning and posing herself in the middle of the room, in direct view of the ajar bedroom door.

Hip cocked. Chest out. Game on.

Winn reappeared... in sweatpants, and his Supergirl-variant 'S-Glyph' t-shirt. 

He loved that shirt. He'd found it in Metropolis, at a stall selling souvenirs for tourists. "Everyone thinks it's the same 'S'," he'd explained, bursting with the child-like joy of knowing things, "But the hollow outline of the 'S' actually represents that the House of El is in mourning." Lena's beguiling smirk involuntarily widened at the memory. He'd been so excited to find it.

He caught a single glimpse of her, and stopped in his tracks, slamming his eyes shut; heater in one arm, dragging the comforter over his shoulder with the other.

"Err... okay. Wow. Huh."

_Ignore it. Put on a show,_ the Luthor Within instructed.

"I thought of something that'll distract you," she said, punctuating the sentence with a well-placed eyebrow raise, before taking a step toward him.

"Yes. I noticed," he said, nervously, his eyes still closed. He carefully put the space heater down, and rubbed his closed eyes.

"Winn?"

"Yeah?" he asked, turning his head to her; but still, his eyelids refused to open.

"Look at me."

Winn took a deep breath, then finally opened his eyes.

Lena considered his expression. The Luthor Within thought it was just _precious._

"I've done it again, haven't I?" she asked, embarrassed; but the words came out with more anger, as though trying to redirect the blame.

"Nope," he replied, trying to avoid making eye-contact, but also taking great pains not to point his vision toward THERE or THERE either, "You haven't done anything wrong. This is actually gonna be a very funny story for us one day."

His eyes finally met hers. "Not TODAY, obviously, but-"

Lena held up her hands in protest for him to stop. She couldn't remember the last time she'd felt this awkward.

"It's like... I can't process it, right now?," Winn continued, oblivious.

"Excuse me?"

"It's like... my limit on... sexy, right now, is down here," he said, holding his hand at his waist, "Like, 'you look incredible tonight, and I can't believe how lucky I am to have you' - because you do, and I am - _that_ I can understand, and I can deal with. But you standing in my apartment, offering yourself to me in a-"

He paused, finally taking the chance to look at the rest of her body, and took a deep, scary-excited breath.

"-_Lingerie and heels ensemble_, is like, _here_-"

At that point, Winn raised his hand at arm's length above his head, then - after a calculated pause - pushed himself up onto tiptoes for emphasis. The precise timing pushed a small laugh out of her.

"-And, with the implied promise you're about to make me forget about all the trauma surrounding my Dad and his very recent death, we're talking somewhere in the apartment upstairs. 

"And I'm just... I'm not _feeling it_, exactly? Like, everything between _here_-" he said, put his hand level with his waist again, "-and Mrs. Cooper's living room is wasted on me, right now. I mean, I know it's _there_. And I could talk myself into it; oh, I could talk myself into it so, SO easily."

Lena watched his eyes take in the rest of her form once more as a frustrated sigh fell out of him, before he refocused upon her face.

"But I shouldn't have to. I don't want to be ABLE to."

He stepped toward her, eyes firmly fixed on hers. "Seeing you like this should BREAK MY BRAIN. It should turn me into a useless, lust-driven mess. Like... like a GOOD version of seeing Cthulthu, you know what I'm saying?"

She remembered Monday night's dinner, and nodded. "Actually, I do."

"I can imagine you've seen it before," he said, not quite understanding, "Those were some lucky dudes."

He sighed out a quiet laugh, and Lena considered a break in the tension a good time to change her state of dress. "Maybe I should go," she said, and took a single step to pick up her clothes before Winn cut her off.

"Please stay," he said, reaching for her hand, "I want you to stay."

She didn't know what to say, which happened more and more often when she was here. Being in this apartment had that effect on her. She was always so SHY here, in comparison to the rest of the world; and when he said things like this - his brown eyes filled with a thousand silent requests, only the most chaste of which he had so far asked to be fulfilled - her meekness surprised her and un-nerved her and thrilled her, all in equal measure.

He broke eye-contact from her for a second, clearly thinking of his next move. "Sit down," he said, gesturing to the couch, "And take your shoes off. I want you to be comfortable."

Lena did as she was told, sitting herself down on her 'side' of the couch with a controlled grace, unhooking her shoes from her heels before sliding her feet underneath her.

"Should I put my dress back on?" Lena asked, playfully, as she took her seat. She didn't know where this was going...

"No."

...but she liked it.

Winn held out the comforter over her, and cocooned her body inside of it; Lena pulling the rest of it around her tightly - Winn's apartment was never cold, exactly; but there was often a chill, especially in her current attire - as she watched him set up the space heater, and then fix them some drinks, and then light a few candles too. 

She had been wrong before, at the bar. THIS was her favourite version of him, when he seemed like he was paying her no attention at all; but somehow, every action, every thought - from the comforter insulating her body, to the warm scents of vanilla and chocolate from the candles slowly pervading the air, making the apartment smell like ice cream - was conceived and executed with her in mind: to make her just that little bit more comfortable than she had been before, to make her smile just that little bit wider.

This, she understood, was what he needed for himself right now, to focus on her. It was better than focusing on himself, certainly. But that didn't mean she couldn't enjoy it.

He put the disk in the Blu-ray player, then - unexpectedly - stopped moving. Like whatever app he was running in his head had stopped working.

"Winn? What is it?" Lena asked, placing her drink down on the coaster.

He stayed in place, seemingly ignoring her, before quietly exhaling a single word: "Yeah."

He crossed his arms, taking the bottom of his shirt between thumb and forefinger of each hand, before taking a deep breath, and lifting it off of himself with a flourish.

Lena was impressed, and the Luthor Within didn't disagree. _Now_ they were getting somewhere.

He stood there, red-faced, unsure of what to do with the shirt in his hands. "I may have practiced doing that a few times."

"Well," she began, idly, while ogli- _examining_ his shirtless self, "Those who fail to prepare, prepare to fail."

This was Lena's first time really seeing him even slightly nude; she knew he'd taken his shirt off on Monday, but she had been... distracted by other things. 

It wasn't quite what she was expecting. 

The belly was still there, mostly - the pleasingly-soft abdomen that she'd imagined he possessed, all those weeks ago, and had been thrilled to feel underneath his shirt - but as for the rest of his body, there seemed to be... more of him, somehow. He was no danger of being mistaken for any kind of sportsman - not even a long-distance runner - but his arms and his chest - lightly carpeted with curling dark hairs, trailing down to his navel - were just a little more prominent and a little less soft than how she had imagined, that she had _felt_ they would be.

"Have you been working out?"

His already-blushed face turning crimson told her all that she needed to know. "It seemed like the least I could do for you."

To her shame, she found herself... _disappointed_ in him. Was this it? Was this the thing that had been holding him back, his embarrassment about his own body? And how could he believe that she would even care about that? She LOVED his body. She-

Okay. Interesting. That was a thought she would have to come back to later.

"You don't have to do that, Winn," she replied, hoping to whatever powers might be out there that he would listen, and not just hear.

He thought for a moment to phrase his response. "You really did look incredible tonight, Lena." And somehow, he blushed even more. "You look incredible every night. And, I think, at least sometimes, I should be capable of sparking that reaction in you too."

The Luthor Within unloaded a string of expletives in Lena's mind regarding the inferno she'd been dealing with over the past two days.

"You don't have to worry about that."

"Well... I do," Winn replied, regaining his composure, "Now, stop hugging the covers-"

He took a step toward the couch, but Lena stopped him with a raised finger.

"Since we're doing this," she began, gesturing toward his bare torso, "Would you permit me to make a small adjustment?"

"Uh..." he buffered, as she pulled her arms underneath the comforter and reached behind her back; and then, a moment later, emerged: pulling the comforter against herself for modesty while displaying her unclasped bra at arm's length.

With a satisfied smile, Lena watched Winn's confused blood cells determine exactly which part of his body they ought to be rushing to.

_No problem processing THAT, was there?_ the Luthor Within challenged.

Unable to look her in the eye, Winn said, "I'll allow it," before meeting her gaze and joining her on the couch. He left his shirt by her side, with the explanation, "In case you get cold later," before joining her underneath the comforter; averting his eyes as he lifted it away from her body.

"Not even going to sneak a peek?" she teased, cuddling up next to him, lightly pressing herself into his arm to share their warmth, and resting her head upon his shoulder.

"Nope. I am a perfect gentleman," he responded, smugly; reaching for the remote, and doing the needful things, fiddling with the settings, whatever. He focused back on her. "Are you sure you're okay?"

"Of course I'm okay, Winn; you don't have to keep asking. Why wouldn't I be okay?"

"Because you have all this to look forward to?"

She looked up at him. She hadn't even given it a moment's thought. Had he been worrying about this the whole time?

"Except.. it won't just be a local news report for you, will it? It'll be DAYS of coverage, and it'll be awful. Reporters outside your hotel, photographers. You'll probably get invited on a Sunday show to 'discuss the Luthor legacy' or whatever. I'm getting off easy."

"Winn, do you-" she began, piecing it together, "Do you think that this should be _harder_ for you? Because you know how hard it'll be for me?"

He sat in silence, sipping his drink, as the television played the now-familiar fanfares.

"Maybe."

She draped her arm over him, letting her fingertips surreptitiously enjoy his newly-developed shoulder muscle - his physicality may not have mattered to her as much as he believed, but that didn't mean she couldn't enjoy his effort - and squeezing her chest against his body.

She had intended her manner to be a comfort. But her voice came out as a command.

"Well, stop it. This is tough enough for you as it is, and I don't want your pity, and I certainly don't want you using it as an excuse to make your life harder for yourself, do you understand? As for the rest of it, we'll cross that bridge when we come to it."

"Absolutely, Ms. Luthor," he answered, in agreement, but with just a hint of mockery.

"And none of that attitude, either," she said.

He turned, and kissed her on the forehead, before turning his attention back to the movie.

"As you wish."

She'd fallen asleep. She knew that she would as soon as she'd put his t-shirt on. The only reason she'd woken up was that she was no longer on the couch. 

She was airborne.

Except no, she wasn't. 

Winn was carrying her. To his bedroom.

Lena kept her eyes closed, and dozily brought her arm up to his neck to support herself, in a manner she hoped Winn would consider instinctive. Winn - despite his recent introduction into the world of exercise - was not a physically strong man. The slow pace; the smooth, heavy, laboured breathing; the heartbeat she felt pulsing beneath his skin all suggested a fear that this exertion was near the absolute limit of his powers, and possibly too much for him. 

But Lena nonetheless felt safe in his arms. If Winn had decided to carry her somewhere, she knew she would make it there, no matter what. Winn wasn't doing this to make himself look strong. He was doing this because it was a thing he believed needed doing. Failure was not an option.

What little light that could penetrate her closed eyelids changed, and the air grew colder. They were in the bedroom now. She could feel him steel himself, trying desperately not to rush now that the finish line was in sight. They turned, gently, slowly, and then he stopped; taking four deep, giant breaths before lowering her down onto the bed, where she landed barely heavier than a feather, before smoothly sliding his arms from underneath her.

As she lazily released him from her grip, Lena heard him stand; his heavy breathing, now for recovery as opposed to effort, was filled with relief; and she couldn't help but smile. Her instinct was to leap up from the bed and smother his face with tiny kisses; to lavish praise upon him for having succeeded at his task, with the selfish hope that her affections would be returned, and events would take a more sensual, NEEDFUL turn.

But instead, she lay there, continuing her pretense; and as she heard him walk back to the other room, sneakily removed her earrings, and placed them on the bedside table.

They were going to be in bed. Together. And she couldn't wait for him to come back. She couldn't wait to lie in bed with him, to cuddle up against him, to sleep beside him. She couldn't wait for them to wake up together; to have breakfast together; and, if she were feeling brave, she might even suggest that they shower together, although she understood that it might be a little too much for him. 

She couldn't wait to touch him.

Which was why it confounded her when she heard him come back from the other room and then felt the comforter get laid upon her, before giving her cheek the lightest kiss.

No. Not again. You can't go. You need me.

She opened her eyes just long enough to reach out for him, flailing, but she caught no purchase; and she watched, helplessly, as he quietly shut the door behind him, and left her alone to sleep.

Again.

Lena understood. He wasn't ready. Not for this. Not for her.

Intellectually, Lena understood.

But, nevertheless, her tears still fell. 

And the Luthor Within hated her for it.


	4. Chapter 4

Lena woke to a distant thumping sound. 

Blearily, she surveyed Winn's - unfortunately - unfamiliar bedroom for some kind of timekeeping device.

She was late.

Such as she could be, anyway. It wasn't like she was going to be in trouble with the boss. Unfurling herself from the covers, she managed to get her eyes open wide enough to see a paper sign taped to the switch by the door:

LENA. THE ROBE IS CLEAN.

There was smaller writing underneath; so she pulled the bright red bathrobe over herself before snatching the note off the wall and yanking open the bedroom door to face the world.

The thumping repeated. A muffled female voice called for "Ms. Luthor?" from the other side of the apartment door. Tying the robe tightly around her, Lena opened the door.

"Jess?"

Her assistant was stood in the hallway, as ready as she always was; with a double-espresso cup in one hand and a suit-bag held aloft in the other.

"Yes, Ms. Luthor. Mr. Schott told me you'd be expecting me?"

Lena consulted the note, as she waved Jess in.

SORRY I COULDN'T STAY FOR BREAKFAST - HAD TO LEAVE EARLY TO MAKE SURE DAD'S STILL DEAD.  
CALLED JESS - SHE IS BRINGING YOU CLEAN CLOTHES AND A CAR.  
THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR LAST NIGHT. WILL CALL LATER.

<s>L</s> YOURS, WINN

P.S. YOUR PHONE SECURITY SUCKS. FIX THAT.

"I see," Lena said, mostly to herself. That scratched-out 'L' was going to bother her all day.

"Yes, Ms. Luthor," Jess replied, holding out the coffee, "The car is waiting."

"Thank you, Jess," Lena said, taking it from her and gulping heavily, "I have no idea where he keeps anything."

"But..." she began, pointing over at the kitchenette, "There's Post-Its."

Lena turned to the kitchenette, to see a neon-orange slip of paper stuck to a cupboard door, bearing the words 'COFFEE' and, more messily - as though written after it had gone onto the door - 'SYRUP'; as well as others, dotted around the kitchen: 'CASHEW MILK'. 'REGULAR MILK'. 'CEREAL'. 

Strangest of all, 'PANCAKE MIX'.

_He thinks you're gonna make pancakes?_ the Luthor Within mocked.

"That... was thoughtful," Lena said, turning back to Jess, "Feel free to get yourself something while I shower."

"Of course, Ms. Luthor," Jess replied, with _almost_ a grin.

"Did you have something to add, Jess?" Lena eyebrowed, as she took the suitbag.

"No, Ms. Luthor," Jess said; pausing, before letting her controlled smile take full form, "You finally spent the night."

The Luthor Within took a deep, enraged breath at having this much of her private frustrations about Winn with Jess; as Lena considered the events of the previous evening. Jess's grin hid itself away once more.

"Collect up my things. I'll get breakfast at the office."

A few hours later, she received the first of what would end up being a series of bizarre text messages over the rest of the day.

FIRST CORONER CONFIRMS: DAD'S STILL DEAD.

_First_ coroner? This was soon followed by:

NEVERMIND, HE HASN'T CHECKED DENTAL RECORDS YET.

Followed a half-hour later by:

DENTAL RECORDS CHECK OUT. NEXT CORONER'S COMING IN 15 MINUTES.

Lena recognised the paranoia immediately. Considering what Winn had said about the future aftermath of Lex's death, Lena could easily imagine that if Lex died under any circumstances than by her own hand, she would never know for sure if he was really dead. The Luthor Within admired Winn's thoroughness in the matter. 

But Lena found it difficult to believe it was the best thing for him right now. In fact, it was downright disturbing. Winn doing ANYTHING the Luthor Within approved of was cause for concern.

So she made a call.

"Kara, are you still meeting Winn for lunch?"

"_Good morning to you, too,_" Kara replied, what Lena could only describe as genial sass.

"Yes, good morning, are you still on for lunch?" Lena carried on. Apparently, she was in no mood for dithering this morning.

"_Uh, yeah, I think so. I mean, I haven't checked, but it's probably a good idea for him to be around friends today-_"

"That's what I was thinking too," Lena interrupted, "Do you mind if I join you? I'm worried about him. He's sending me weird texts from work."

"_He went IN today?_" Kara's voice was incredulous. "_Yeah, I should definitely tell him we're having lunch._"

"Thanks," Lena said, "Oh, and Kara?"

"_Yeah?_"

"Don't tell him I'm coming," Lena said, knowing full well this wasn't a good idea. Looking into whatever private business Winn had planned with Kara today was really something that should wait. But, as far as Lena could tell, Kara seemed to be in the dark as much as she was.

"_Uh... is everything okay?_"

"Yes, yes, it's fine, it's just..." Lena searched for a truthful answer, "He distracts himself by making sure I'm taken care of. He needs to focus on him right now, but he won't do that if he knows I'm coming."

"_Gotcha. See you in a couple of hours._"

The moment she arrived at lunch, Lena confirmed that Winn _definitely_ wasn't prepared for her to be there. He and Kara were both seated already; Winn clearly nervous about something, Kara listening intently. It seemed almost... clandestine.

Kara spotted her, and said, "Hi!" probably louder than she really needed to, and Winn startled.

"Oh, hey!" he said, scrambling to his feet, kissing Lena on the cheek. "I, uh, didn't know you were coming?"

"I asked her to," Kara lied, "I thought you might like to see her. She said you'd been at work today?"

Winn took in Kara's words; then looked over at Lena. He clearly wasn't buying it for a second.

"I'm not intruding, am I?" Lena asked him, knowing full well that she was.

"We're just worried about you," Kara added.

He sighed, and played along. "Well," he began, with forced joviality, "You know me. Workaholic."

"Yes, that's kind of what we're worried about, Winn," Lena replied, and as the extra chair was being set up for her, he wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her in for a side-hug. She noticed him surreptitiously smelling her hair while whispering, "Thank you," in her ear. Lena's eyes closed involuntarily to savour the experience before he released her and returned to his seat.

The warmth returned. If she could bottle this feeling and sell it, she'd be a billionaire all over again.

"So, what were you guys talking about when I came in?" she asked them, and Winn immediately tightened back up. The Luthor Within raged. He was doing the hot and cold thing. Again. What was _wrong_ with him? 

Other than his father dying?

"Uh," Winn began, "Unsurprisingly, Dad, and you know... everything." Kara nodded in agreement, even though the Luthor Within could tell it was obviously a lie.

It was OBVIOUSLY a lie. There was no way that conversation was about the same topic he'd been so candid about last night and all of this morning.

But Lena decided to let it go. It was private, he'd said. She'd known that this morning. She should respect his privacy.

Shouldn't she?

"What's going on with that?" she asked, "You said there was a second coroner?"

The rest of lunch was uneventful, as far as Lena was concerned; Winn wasn't especially distant, but nor was there the sense of closeness she'd come to expect from him when they were with others.

That was, until, as they were leaving. Outside the restaurant, Winn and Kara hugged - again, for longer than the Luthor Within would have liked - and then Kara headed back to the office; leaving Lena alone with her would-be lover.

"I guess you'll be heading back too-" she began, as Winn took her hand and enveloped her; his left arm around her waist, pulling her so close, his right around the back of her neck, stroking the roots of the hair tied up in a bun.

"Thank you for coming today," he said, "I really needed it."

He pulled away slightly, rested his forehead against hers. Tears formed at the base of his closed eyelids.

"Of course I came. You left before I woke up, and then those texts... Do you know how worried I was?" she said, cupping his head in her hands, "You're going to make yourself crazy if you keep thinking he's out there."

"I know," he said, putting on a weak smile even as the tears rolled down his cheeks, "But I don't trust him."

"Or his coroners, apparently," she said, with an arched eyebrow. "Believe me, I understand. 'If you want something done right, you've got to do it yourself,'" she added, quoting Lillian in both word and tone, "But I don't believe it's supposed to extend to things like this."

"I know. I just-"

"You have to. I know," she said, and then made sure she had this full attention before continuing, "But putting all of this on yourself is going to crush you. And I don't want you to be crushed, and neither does anyone else, which is why you don't have to do this alone. At the DEO, you have Alex, and J'onn, and I'm sure Supergirl wouldn't mind being there for you if you asked? And then there's James, and Mon-El, and Kara..."

She took a deep breath. It all seemed clichéd, but somehow, it was still harder than she thought it would be.

"...And you have me. I'm here for you. I want to be here for you."

His smile was stronger now, making it all the way to his eyes, and gazing right back into hers; and suddenly, everything she had been planning to say went right out of her head.

"I want..." she began, as he leaned into to her; softly, but firmly pressing his lips against hers. He broke off at first, then returned, deepening the kiss, and it felt... hungry, hungrier than it had on Monday night; hungrier, even, than that of her own desires. It felt like... what she'd been waiting for.

She broke off the kiss, catching her breath, before suggesting, "It's only a short drive to my hotel from here..."

Immediately, the panic set in Winn's face, and he struggled against her. "Uh, no," he said, pushing himself away, "I have to get back-"

"Of course you do," the Luthor Within said, with unexpected harshness; and Lena watched him recoil.

"That's fair," he said, regaining his composure, "Uh, I'll... talk to you later, okay?"

"You know I didn't mean it like that," the Luthor Within replied condescendingly, even though Lena knew it had meant it _exactly_ like that.

"I know," he said, endless compassion in his eyes, "I said it was fair. Now, if you'll please excuse me; I have to go x-ray and MRI my father's corpse to make sure it's free of booby traps. I'll speak to you later."

And he walked away, leaving Lena standing on the sidewalk.

The rest of Lena's day was... unproductive. She was constantly distracted, mostly by the rage emanating from the Luthor Within; except the thing the Luthor Within was most furious about was Lena being distracted by what had happened at lunch.

Mooning over a _boy_? For God's sake, you're a grown woman. Pull yourself together.

But it wasn't helping. Winn had kept texting her constantly throughout the afternoon with updates on his progress; at one point, the tests he said he was doing got so ridiculous she thought he was trying to make her laugh so, on the surface, it seemed like things wore okay between them, at least from his side.

Not replying to any of them was probably not helping. But Lena kept coming back to those two words:

"That's fair."

During that first night, some weeks ago, Winn had explained - in more detail than she would have liked - how he had allowed his previous girlfriends to treat him very poorly, and how he was afraid - more like terrified - that he would allow her to do the same.

Was that what was happening? The Luthor Within had been very harsh with him, and he'd just... taken it.

_Good. He was wrong, and he knew it. AND he'd already lied to you once. He SHOULD take it._

But it didn't make any _sense_. If he was just distant, she could understand; it had been less than 24 hours since his father's death, and the work he was compelled toward surrounding that was emotionally taxing to say the least, it was understandable that her needs might not be his top priority...

...Except every instinct she had about that kiss told her that it wasn't just _her_ needs. He wanted her... _support_ as much as she wanted to give it to him. It was like he was punishing himself for wanting something good in his life at all.

But why? Was it the Big Lie? The deep-down conviction that one day, he would break; and someone would end up having to do a full body-scan on HIS corpse to make sure there were no hidden surprises? 

Or was it something else?

_That secret meeting with Kara seems a lot more important now, doesn't it?_

It... did. 

Loathe as she was to admit it, something was holding Winn back, and the evidence Lena had told her it definitely involved Kara. But what could possibly be so bad that he would do this to himself over it? He'd never lied about his previous feelings for Kara, certainly not. There was no way someone would create a fiction in which they had failed so spectacularly.

No, there was a piece of the puzzle missing... and if she could just find it, everything would make sense, and she'd be fully prepared to pull the truth out of him.

She considered asking Kara, but no. If Winn had confided in her, Kara would never betray that confidence. That integrity was one of the things that made her Kara.

So, what to do?

There was a BUZZ from her desk as she put together her thoughts, with a second BUZZ before she read could the text:

IT'S DEFINITELY HIM. HE'S DEFINITELY DEAD. FUNERAL IS ON SATURDAY.

I WOULD REALLY LIKE IT IF YOU WERE THERE.

Did he think there was a chance she wasn't going? Had she really been that cruel?

_You left him on read all day for a reason. Let him beg._

A third BUZZ.

I NEED YOU.

That got a phone call.

"You 'need' me? Isn't that language a little emotive?" she said, sneeringly.

"_Yeah_," he said, and she could hear him pinch the bridge of his nose in frustration as he said it, "_I'm sorry, I didn't mean to do that._"

"I should hope not."

He chuckled nervously. "_Did your therapist give that you that same workbook on manipulative behaviours, or is this just from dealing with Lillian for twenty years?_"

"Now, Winn, you know I don't believe in psychotherapy," Lena dismissed.

"_Yeah, I do seem to recall 'pseudo-scientific quackery' being mentioned once or twice,_," he said, and his voice seemed brighter. "_I meant it, though. I mean, I know I've been weird today-_"

"Not just today," The Luthor Within interrupted.

"_Yeah, and I promise, I AM going to talk to you about all of it, it's just- please, let me get through this week? That's all I ask. Well, no; it's not, I have more things-_"

"Stop," Lena commanded; both to the voice on the phone, and the one inside her own head. Both fell silent. She took a few moments, and considered her options. 

He was admitting there _was_ a problem. That was good. He just wanted to deal with it at any other time than right now.

A phrase from their shared past floated into her mind.

"I recall a phrase too. 'You are my family, you have a problem, we need to deal with it.' Do you recognise that one?"

"_Something like that_," he said, subtly drawing attention to the three little words she had intentionally omitted from her recollection.

"A very kind young man said that to me once, and I don't know if I'll ever stop being grateful that he did," she continued. "You don't _ever_ have to be afraid to ask me to do what needs doing, because I _will_ do it. Do you understand?"

"_I understand_," he said, voice filled with gratitude.

"Good. We will return to this subject when you feel ready; but until then, you can ask me for anything you need," she said; with the Luthor Within mischievously adding, "Anything at all."

"_Good. Good. I mean, thank you,_" he said, pausing before tentatively - maybe even nervously - asking, "_There is one thing I was hoping you could do for me...?_"

She leaned back in her incredibly comfortable office chair, and put her feet up on the desk. The Luthor Within put a smirk on her face. Winn didn't have to be afraid to ask her for anything, but it was always more fun when he was.

"I'm listening."

The graveyard was a blanket of white; blotted with the stone grey of the tombstones, and the black coats of the gathered visitors. They weren't mourners, none of them were - no-one except Winn, and he'd chosen to wear grey.

Sourcing that grey overcoat had been Winn's nervous request; as though he were afraid she'd think less of him for not wearing black. Nothing could have been farther from the truth. In fact, standing there, wrapped from neck to heel in bold red wool, she was a little worried he might think actually less of her.

Her coat had been a deliberate choice. While Lena had promised Winn she would do whatever he needed, the Luthor Within had no interest in letting him have sole claim over defining what that should be; and certainly no interest in letting him wallow in pity or grief, however much he might claim that he wasn't, especially not if he was planning on dragging it out.

After much deliberation, she'd chosen to reverse her previous strategy of radio silence, and instead draw attention onto herself; to be a beacon, with a single message: his father was The Past; she was The Future. By making a number of calculated decisions about her appearance - all of them just slightly inappropriate and definitely provocative - she hoped to distract him from his confused feelings about his father, and it seemed to be working; when she arrived at his apartment earlier that morning, his eyes had lingered over the Veronica Lake curl in her hair, and the rich, deep red on her lips. She'd considered taking her coat off to reveal her dress, but there wasn't enough time, and besides, that was probably best left until the wake. Better to tease out the reveal.

The underwear she'd chosen was slightly uncomfortable.

None of what she was doing was selfless, she understood very clearly. This was as much about what she wanted as it was about him, perhaps even more so; and the sooner he was ready to put an end to the secrets and the uncertainty, the better it would be for both of them. 

But she wasn't going to force the issue. She'd would be there for him with whatever might need, whenever he might need it, just as she'd promised. All she was doing was steering his perception of what those needs were.

_So if his needs just happen to become aligned with your goals, all the better._

The pastor finished his little speech, the usual nullification and obfuscation of evil men's deed that she'd heard many times from men who'd known Lex or Lillian and wanted to distance themselves from her family's more infamous contributions to world history; and she watched, as Winn picked up a snow-covered sod of earth and threw it, gracelessly, into the pit at their feet, before wandering away aimlessly.

Lena wanted to follow him, but then she noticed the woman.

She was of middle-age or perhaps older, with a chestnut bob; stood, tentatively, just a few yards away from him. Was she another visitor, like them? No, her demeanor was all wrong. She was nervous.

"Winn?" the woman called out, in a gentle-if-condescending tone, as though addressing a small child, "Do you remember me? It's been a while."

"I know how long it's been," he replied, soullessly, "You just missed him."

Lena let the rest of the words pour over her as she pieced the facts together. This woman was from Winn's past, as well as his father's. 

She'd been gone a long time.

And Winn was so, SO mad at her.

Lena took the information available, and drew the logical conclusion.

But... She couldn't do this. Not today. People didn't do THIS. Not even Lillian would have shown such little compassion. 

But there wasn't anyone else that it could be.

"Oh, so you're here for me? Wow, Mom, you're a little late."

Lena's first thought - for which she would feel a secret shame for years to come - that she was not going to be having sex for quite some time.

"You have every right to be furious with me..." Winn's mother began, but Lena stopped listening. Or, more accurately, the Luthor Within stopped listening.

Lena liked to believe that the Luthor Within hated everyone; and, for the most part, she was correct. But - while yes, it was selfish, and yes, it was vicious - nevertheless, sometimes, it had an unexpected capacity to manifest that hate into caring about other people.

More specifically, the thing the Luthor Within hated most right now, in the whole world, was the Big Lie; the source of all Winn's insecurities, and all of Lena's current confusion. 

And right here, right in front of her, was the Big Lie's architect; the person who had done the most damage to her son's psyche, damage that he was still recovering from, damage Lena was desperate to heal.

So if this woman thought _Winn_ was furious with her... 

Of their own accord, Lena's feet took strong, bold strides towards her target; shrugging off Kara, who was weakly trying to hold her back.

Lena hoped someone could hold her back. The Luthor Within was going to rip this woman's head off. 

_Just a few more steps..._

"EVERYBODY GET DOWN!" Lena heard Kara yell from behind her; and moments later, heavy arms had wrapped themselves around her, and pulled her to the ground, as a huge explosion roared from the grave, showering the ground around her with snow and dirt.

"BASTARD ALWAYS WANTED TO GO OUT WITH A BANG!" Lena heard a stranger's voice yell, and deduced that it must have been Winn's mother.

"Are you okay?" James asked, lying on the ground beside her.

"Yes, I'm fine," Lena replied, pulling herself out of his grasp. Was Winn okay?

She looked over. Winn and his mother lay some twenty feet away, with Supergirl stood between them. Thank God she'd gotten there so fast.

Lena checked around for the others. Alex & Maggie were getting to their feet, Mon-El was dusting himself off, Kara-

Where was Kara?

Lena scanned the immediate area. She couldn't possibly have gone very far, she'd just warned everybody about the explosion. Where the hell was-

NOBODY WAS WORRIED ABOUT KARA.

Lena checked Mon-El's face for signs of concern. Nothing. Then she turned her attention to Alex.

THEY HADN'T EVEN NOTICED SHE WAS MISSING.

Lena had seen this kind of thing before, her memory reminded her; but never in such stark contrast, with everyone all together. Kara had warned everybody about an explosion - an explosion she couldn't _possibly_ have known about in advance - and then disappeared... 

...and then _Supergirl_ had arrived, impossibly, to save the day; and no-one - NO-ONE, not Alex or Maggie or James or Mon-El or her beloved Winn - was asking where Kara had disappeared to?

Silently, Lena's mind slotted the missing piece of the puzzle into place, and saw the whole, terrible picture for the first time; a picture for which the Luthor Within, unusually, had an entirely rational and well-thought-out response:

_You fucking IDIOT._


	5. Chapter 5

Lena sat, arms crossed, in the chair at Winn's desk in DEO Central Ops, concentrating very hard on controlling her breathing.

Partly, it was the dress. The immaculate, brilliant white garment - ostensibly modest, down over her knees, and up to her collarbone; un-decorated, except for the conspicuously wide-toothed jet-black zipper running down the back, all the way from the neck to the hem, that felt cold against the area of bare skin on her thigh above her garter - wasn't tight, exactly, but it had been tailored to fit against very precise tolerances. Even covered, a heaving bosom could have been tactically deployed in any number of ways as part of Lena's now-defunct romance strategy; but here, now, while emotions were running high, it was distracting, made her feel self-conscious, and much less likely to be taken seriously.

And Lena's emotions were at BOILING POINT.

Kara - sorry, _Supergirl_ \- was here too. She'd flown off, mere moments after Lena had reached her conclusion at the graveyard; and then Kara just _popped_ up from behind a headstone. 

Like it was nothing.

Like it wasn't suspicious.

Like Lena would have fallen for it.

_And yet, you fell for it; so many times before now._

Again, there wasn't a single reaction from anyone when Kara re-appeared. This was normal. Every-day. _Expected_. 

Lena couldn't believe it. 

The Luthor Within _could_ believe it; but didn't have any real ideas about what to do about it. More accurately, it had way too many; most involving some form of violence, and though those solutions would be immensely satisfying, Lena was unconvinced at their potential for long-term success.

So, she sat; controlling her breathing, while her blood pumped through her veins so hard she thought she might burst.

How... _how_ could Kara have done this to her? After all her platitudes, all her little speeches; everything they'd been through together, both as Kara and as Supergirl... Kara didn't trust her. 

None of them did.

Not even Winn. The thought was like a vacuum inside her soul.

At the graveyard, Kara had made her excuses to leave - heading back to the office, she said - _after_ Lena declared her intent to go with Winn; but, when they arrived at the DEO, there was Supergirl, waiting. Lena was tempted to call her, right now: make her pick up Kara Danvers's phone right then and there... but Lena needed more information. Intelligence gathering, planning, execution. 

So, the first thing she really needed to do, was get it confirmed. Supergirl had gone upstairs for a discussion with Mon-El-

She'd been pissed at her. Kara had been pissed at Lena for WEEKS after Mon-El had gone, and Supergirl had pushed the damn button herself. 

The sheer hypocrisy of the thing made Lena want to throw a chair.

-So, for confirmation, she needed Winn. But he was a little busy right now. 

With his mother. 

He didn't trust her, either. At least he was making the right call there.

"...You should be PROUD," Lena overheard.

The sudden revelations about Kara had left Lena with little spare rage to be directed at the woman who was currently the centre of Winn's attention, but there was enough. How dare she? Yes, Winn should be proud of himself, of course he should be proud of himself, how dare SHE come here and tell him he's not proud ENOUGH? 

"You can't be down here," Winn told his mother.

"But she can?" his mother asked, pointing toward Lena.

"Lena's been instrumental in a number of DEO operations. You have not."

His voice was overly calm, authoritative. Almost commanding. The sound of it overrode Lena's attempt to manage her breathing, just for a moment.

"Well, if anyone asks, I'll just say I'm looking for the bathroom-" his mother began.

"It's around the corner to the left." 

Lena was surprised as they both suddenly turned to look at her; because it wasn't until they did that she realised she'd even said anything.

Taking only half a beat, Winn's mother ignored the venom in Lena's words and casually threw back, "Well, I tried that one, but it was closed for 'enhanced interrogation'-"

"Hey!" Winn yelled

"Kidding!" the woman replied, "Just kidding! Jeez, when did a little gallows humour ever hurt anybody? Well, except for the fellas hanging from the gallows."

"What do you want?" Winn asked her, clearly at the end of his tether.

"I just wanted to see you face, Winn. I wanted to hear your voice-"

"You've seen it, you've heard it, why are you still here?"

Again, Lena's stone-cold outburst surprised everyone, including herself. As hard as it was for the coldly-analytical part of her mind to function under such emotional circumstances, it wasn't hard to understand why. She'd sat through Lillian's performance of this song many times. This was the congenial part, the verse where _just enough_ praises were sung of the listener to _keep_ them listening until the inevitable request could be made.

Lena had been through this enough times to know to stop listening.

But Winn... Winn was too _nice_. He'd give her a chance. He'd listen. And _PERHAPS_ he'd put up something of a resistance - after all, he had done so far - but inevitably, his kindness would win out, and he would acquiese to something at least resembling forgiveness.

_You don't know that_, the Luthor Within reminded her, _He's held out against YOU for long enough_.

But Lena ignored it. This woman could not be allowed to gain a foothold in Winn's heart, not even for a minute; because when she left - and she would leave, Lena had no doubt - it would destroy him.

And right now, Lena had no idea if she wanted to put the pieces back together.

"You want money? We can do that," Lena said.

"I'm... I'm not here for money," the woman replied.

"Are you sure? I have a great deal of money that you could NOT be here for," Lena spat back.

"I want my son back," she replied.

Lena leaped from her chair. "Well, YOU CAN'T HAVE HIM!"

The woman turned back toward Winn. "Winn, if we could just talk-"

"He is not going ANYWHERE with you!" Lena snapped. Winn stepped in between them, eyes wide open, lightly clutching Lena's bare arms at her elbows.

Lena understood immediately.

"Are you kidding?" she hissed, "You should not let this woman sweet-talk you into-"

"Lena, I've waited twenty years for this conversation," he whispered, calmly. "Please."

And just like that, she was back in his apartment; hesitant to deny him a single request.

He pointed back to the desk. "We'll be in the training room. You'll be able to watch on the monitor."

Lena moved toward him to whisper in his ear. "Don't trust her for a second."

He pulled back, made sure he had her attention; his brown eyes resolute.

"I won't have to."

Winn kissed her on the cheek; then released her, turned, and took bold strides past his mother. 

"Follow me."

The woman looked back at Lena, more confused than triumphant - which Lena wasn't expecting - then hurried along behind her son.

Lena hoped like hell he knew what he was doing.

She hurried back to Winn's desk, and quickly figured out how to get the security feed from the training room up on the monitor. It came up just as Winn was closing the door behind them.

"_-you just going to make me explain in silence?_" the woman said.

"_I'm waiting until I'm sure we have an audience_" Winn replied, sternly.

Lena sighed, with an unexpected longing still in her heart.

Don't worry, Winn. I'm here.

"You mean your girlfriend?" the woman asked, half-rhetorically, and noticed Winn's light nod in response, "She's... striking. Perhaps a little over-protective."

"Suffering fools is not something Lena does very well," Winn replied, "Besides, maternal betrayal is kind of a pet peeve of hers."

"Lena," the woman said, nodding; before perking up in recognition, "Lena _Luthor_?"

Lena watched Winn shift in disgust, his body language weary. He'd happily defended Lena against attacks against the Luthor name at the bar, but here he looked like it was a humiliation.

"She's not the person you think she is," he answered quietly.

"The only thing I know about her is that she's the billionaire who got the Earth invaded. Is she a billionaire? I'd say yes, seeing how she just tried to buy me off," the woman asked, her voice precise, challenging.

"Yes," he replied, uneasily.

"And did she get the Earth invaded?"

He looked down at his shoes. "She didn't mean to."

"Well, then, so far, she's exactly who I think."

He shuffled his feet again, and The Luthor Within riled as Lena watched. _He's letting her take control_, it scowled. _You get mostly naked for him, and he's a pillar of restraint; she uses a harsh tone for a second and he folds_.

Lena struggled to hold herself in the chair; to stop herself rushing into that room. He hadn't folded _yet_.

"How did you two meet?" Winn's mother continued, a hint of accusation in her voice.

"Nonono," Winn scowled back, "You don't get to do _that_. You don't get to act like I've come home with a cocktail waitress I married in Vegas. You wouldn't get to do that even if I HAD married a cocktail waitress I'd just met in Vegas-"

Although surprised by the bizarre segue, Lena sighed with some relief. He was fighting back. 

Come on. Don't give an inch. Not one.

"I know, and I'm not trying to-" Winn's mother stumbled over her words, "I have spend twenty years imagining this moment and now... Leaving you? It gutted me. And I've carried that with me every day of my life... But I had to, Winn. Because your father-"

"Oh, no, I'm sorry let me guess-" Winn interrupted, with a despairing, soulless laugh that Lena had only ever heard him use once before, and had hoped to never hear again, "He threatened your life."

_No, Winn,_ the Luthor Within predicted an instant before the words came out of his mother's mouth, _He threatened yours_.

Of course. The _Martyr_. See how I have suffered for you, child, and be grateful for the protection of my suffering. 

Lena had to concentrate on holding down her own bile.

"He told me that if I went near you, ever, that he would kill you. And when he died, I thought it was safe. But I was wrong. You're still in danger."

"I don't believe you," Winn replied.

Good. Don't believe her lies, Winn. 

"You saw what your father did at his own funeral," the woman said.

"I SAW THE LAST GASPING PRANK OF A LUNATIC," he snapped back, "And now what I'm hearing is an excuse, twenty years in the making."

He paused for a moment to gather his thoughts. "Hey, I had twenty years to think, too. You wanna know what i think about the most? Let me set the scene for ya..."

And set it he did.

Lena watched as Winn laid out the events of that fateful night twenty years before: the confusion, the abandonment, the heart-breaking isolation of it all; and, for the first time in a long time, she felt gratitude for her own father taking her otherwise-orphaned self from Child Services into his home; for standing in front of his stone-cold wife and saying, "This girl is part of our family now." 

It hadn't worked; but there had, at least, been someone who'd cared enough to try.

And if he hadn't, who would have taken his place? Would she have bounced around the system like Winn had? Would they have known each other? Would they still have been-

"How's he doing?" a familiar voice asked. Lena paused to answer. Somehow, she'd almost forgotten about her entirely.

"He's doing well, Supergirl," Lena replied, her voice measured and even, all the while digging the tips of her fingers into the palms of her hands to quell her rage. "He's stronger than you think."

"Always has been," Supergirl said, and she _sat down_, in the chair next to Lena, and rolled it across to see the screen.

Like nothing had happened.

_Even breaths, nice and shallow. Don't give it away just yet._

"Really? How long have you known each other?" Lena asked, with false calm, knowing the real answer; but willing to test not only if Supergirl would lie, but how. A pause and a clench of her jaw was enough to let Lena know that whatever came next would be far from honest; but Lena knew liars, and they could weave in enough truth to make it indistinguishable from lies.

"I knew he worked for Ms. Grant, before he came here," Supergirl explained, "But it wasn't until his father escaped that I really knew him."

"You helped him?" Lena asked, processing the lie; and found - given the other information that she already had about that time - that it wasn't a lie at all, but rather a dishonest truth. 

_Shes SO good at this_, the Luthor Within noted, with awe as well as revulsion, _She doesn't even know HOW good_.

"The FBI shot at him. They thought he was an accomplice," Kara said. Lena did her best to move past yet another revelation about Winn's past. It was just another thing he'd kept from her. And the idea she might owe Supergirl gratitude for saving his life was just a horrible garnish.

"And you stopped the bullets?" Lena asked, trying not to glare at her deceitful friend. The deception wasn't just the glasses, or what she was saying, it was her whole form; like an optical illusion you had suddenly learned the trick to.

Supergirl nodded. Lena flicked her vision toward her before focusing her attention back on the scene in the other room.

"Well, I guess I should be thanking you," she said, trying to make the words sound idle as opposed to venomous.

"You're welcome, Ms. Luthor," Supergirl replied, with a hint of questioning in her voice, "Is everything okay?"

Crap. Lena wasn't ready for this. Crapcrapcrappity-

Suddenly, Supergirl stood up, the chair rolling away from her with some force. She was ready for action. Moments later, there were raised voices, commotion among the DEO agents. Something was happening, and Supergirl took bold strides towards the source, the DEO balcony.

Lena was curious, but was reticent to follow Supergirl anywhere just now. The Luthor Within, on the other hand, refused to let Supergirl out of its sight; and so followed behind with equally confident strides, up the stairs, and out onto the balcony, where James was waiting, staring out into the night's sky.

"What the hell is that?" Lena asked, as she watched plumes of white smoke form letters in the near distance.

"The Wicked Witch?..." Supergirl whispered, as the letters formed a more distinct message:

SURRENDER MARY

"Okay, we can do that," the Luthor Within announced, provoking a disdainful expression from Supergirl. "What? I have no problems with handing her over," it replied.

"Lena, I think you better get somewhere safe," James told her in a firm tone, holding an arm out in front of her as a worthless defense against the danger that was flying toward them, and the Luthor Within glared daggers at him for pretending he gave a damn after weeks of his passive-aggressive nonsense.

"Don't tell me what to do," the Luthor Within commanded; and pushed his arm out of the way. That provoked the same offended look from BOTH of them, and Lena scrambled to take back control from her angrier half. 

Lena didn't take James's advice, but she did take a single step down the stairs, leaning much of her weight onto her lower foot as she did so, to check how her feet would balance on the chunky heels of her boots. She'd chosen them for aesthetics more than practicality; but, luckily, she could run in them if she needed to.

"Flying monkeys," Supergirl whispered, and as the danger came closer, Lena saw it take form: a swarm of robots, chimps with drone wings; spearheaded, as much as a swarm can be, by a large, airborne, gold-plated gorilla.

It was the most insane thing Lena had ever been witness to.

And then, the swarm attacked.


	6. Chapter 6

Lena heard the glass smash behind her the moment her boot hit the next step. James was right, she should have gotten somewhere safe; but no, she had to let her angry stubbornness put herself in danger-

"Lena!" Winn's voice cried out, his mother beside him, both of them ducking under the monkey hoard. Lena rattled down the steps towards him, and he grabbed her wrist, screaming "Quickly! Under the desks!" as he pulled her along with him. Lena knew better than to argue with him right now. 

His mother did not.

"What are you doing? We need to get low!"

"THIS IS MY JOB, MOM!" he yelled back.

While Lena ran for the desks, keeping herself as low as momentum would allow, The Luthor Within scanned around, searching. As a DEO Agent got knocked to the ground, his weapon slid across the floor, and The Luthor Within pulled Lena from Winn's grasp.

"KEEP GOING!" it commanded Winn, and knelt down to grab the weapon; snatching it from the agent's outstretched fingers as he reached for it, and shooting his assailant monkey, the pieces crashing down on top of his body, winding him.

"She's sorry!" James bellowed at him, as he lifted Lena to her feet; and she stumbled upright just in time to see Winn DIVE over the round desk in the middle of Central Ops. She ran toward him, James shepherding her and Winn's mother to safety as he helped take down the other chimps, aided by a returning Supergirl; but as they ran, Lena noticed the monkeys converging on Winn's likely position. 

They were after him.

She drew a bead on them, over the desk, and fired, two shots a piece; and their bullet-ridden frames fell out of sight. The third lurched toward the target hidden behind the desk; but stopped suddenly. Winn's mother had grabbed it by the leg, and wasn't letting go.

"Get away from him, you NIGHTMARE!" she screamed.

Lena took aim on the restrained monkey; but it was a tough angle, and the target was moving. In all probability, she would be just as likely hit Winn's mother by mistake.

_It wouldn't be the worst thing_, The Luthor Within suggested.

Suddenly, the monkey blasted into pieces. On reflex, Lena turned toward the source, raised her weapon, and fired.

The bullets bounced harmlessly off of Kara's skin, and she stared at Lena; half-shocked, half-confused. Lena quickly lowered the gun, and took her finger off the trigger, before the full realisation of what happened formed in her mind.

_Pity_, The Luthor Within despaired, as Lena watched Supergirl return to the fray.

"It's okay. She's okay. You didn't hurt her," James told her, patronisingly; as he placed his hands around her wrist and her fingers, and firmly took the pistol from her grasp, as if she were in shock. But she wasn't in shock. Why would he think she was in shock?

The chaos having died down, the last of the monkeys being destroyed; a familiar hand grasped her elbow, and pulled her in for a hug. Winn. Lena slowly let herself sink into his embrace; surreptitiously checking him for wounds, and finding none.

"This is your job? This is?" Winn's mother asked, with shocked incredulity. "Okay."

Winn gently pulled away from Lena's grasp. "No," he said, tired, "That WAS my job."

He turned to his mother. "NOW my job is to find the most intact one of these things and work out where it came from."

"What can I do?" the older woman asked, sincerely.

"Whatever you want," he said, and he walked off, toward his lab. His mother watched him go, forlorn. Lena noted her expression, then followed him.

When she got there, she found him knelt on the floor, pulling 3'x 2' baskets from underneath the benches, and laying them on top. He was so focused on the task at hand, it was like he hadn't noticed her at all; so it surprised he when he finally spoke.

"So, out of ten? How is this measuring up with the average Luthor family reunion?"

Lena considered her answer. "I'd give it a six."

"A SIX?" he said, climbing to his feet. "That's it? Come on; we got wing-ed monkeys here!" he continued, trying to keep his good humour and failing.

"Well, anything involving my mother usually has some kind of geo-political ramifications..." she meandered. "But you did well, with your mother. Stood your ground. She seemed genuinely upset."

"Are you gonna tell me I should have been easier on her?" he asked, with genuine curiosity.

"No," she said, truthfully. "Honestly, I wasn't entirely sure you had it in you."

"I know. I guess I contain multitudes," he said, picking up one of the baskets; "So, I know your inner super-villain rebels against cleaning of any kind; plus, I don't wanna make your dry-cleaning bill any higher-"

She glanced down at her formerly white dress, following his gaze. It was now a striking mix of floor dirt and gunpowder residue grey.

"-but do you wanna grab one of these, and then help me out? Be nice for the two of us to work on something like this _after_ the shooting stops for once."

She took a step forward toward the basket, and then stopped. 

_This isn't what you came in here to do_, the Luthor Within reminded her. And Lena knew it was right. 

"What?" Winn asked, sincerely.

She'd been holding back all day, making little excuses to avoid this confrontation; but she'd finally realised why. 

She didn't want to do this. 

This would end in a fight, and she knew it. She didn't want to have this fight. She didn't want to have _any_ fight. 

Her rational, logical, non-emotional self knew - had always known, right from the moment she realised the truth - that this hadn't been his secret to tell, and it wasn't fair to blame him for not telling her.

So please, anything but this.

Let's go home. Let's go back to his apartment, cuddle under the blankets again. Pretend all this had never happened. There was that documentary Alex had talked about, wasn't there? About people who believe the Earth was flat, but keep proving it was round by mistake? We could put that on.

"_You love watching morons fail_," he'd said to her back at the bar, when Alex had described it. Lena had given him a death glare; but, being honest with herself, the way he'd smiled when he said it had made her feel _known_ in a way she hadn't been entirely prepared for.

Yes. We'll go home, and get cozy, and we'll laugh at the stupid people, and at one point our eyes will meet and we'll fall into each other's arms and we'll kiss and we'll touch and then finally, FINALLY-

But there would be no going home. 

No movie. No couch, no blankets. 

Winn's mother was right; Winn was a target right now. She'd seen it with her own eyes. And whatever danger - intensely bizarre, flying monkey danger - he was in while inside these walls, it would increase tenfold the moment he stepped outside of them.

No. This was going to happen here. NOW.

And as soon as Lena understood that, the Luthor Within took the stage.

"When were you going to tell me?" it asked, accusingly, as it folded Lena's arms. Breathing was steady, eyes fixed on him, ready to pounce at the slightest mistake.

It had control of the situation again. The Luthor Within _liked_ having control. 

He stood, a little confused, then laid the basket back down on the bench.

"Lena," he began, "I haven't told _anyone_ that story about my mom before. I been holding onto that for twenty years. I think I got moved on by one of my foster families because I wouldn't tell them-"

"No, not about your mother," it interrupted, glaring, "About Kara."

She could see wheels turning in his head as he deciphered her meaning. Then, his expression changed; narrowing his eyes, and turning his head just slightly to the side.

_He's got it._

He remained quiet for a few more moments. 

_Go on_, the Luthor Within baited, _Lie to me._

After more silence, Winn shook his head. "I can't do this today."

Lena opened her mouth to launch her anger, but he cut her off before she could begin. "Yeah," he said, "I get it, and I get that you're pissed, and you have every right to be pissed, and on ANY OTHER DAY this would be at the very top of my to-do list; but my mom's come back, and someone's trying to kill me, so you gotta get pushed back to third place right now, okay?"

"How long have you known?" the Luthor Within demanded. _No. We are DOING THIS._

"Since the beginning," Winn replied. 

"What the hell does that mean?" it spat back.

"What does...?" he threw his arms into a 'what's-the-point' gesture, "Kara saved the plane. She saved the plane, because Alex was on it; and then the next day she told me she'd saved the plane, and how, and what she wanted to do next, and then we spent the weekend in her apartment with my sewing machine and a police scanner, and then Ms. Grant took the liberty with the name on Monday morning, and that's when Supergirl was born."

The speed at which he rattled off events took Lena aback. "Your sewing machine?" she eyebrowed. "You mean you made..."

"I told you you'd be surprised," he said, almost a whisper, ashamed.

"So," she said, calmer; her angrier-self abated for the moment, "When exactly were you going to surprise me with this? Or were you just going to string me along until I figured it out on my own?"

"No! Of course not!" he replied, defensively, "But it's not like I can just tell you! Not without Kara's permission. I owe her that much."

"Because she saved your life?" she asked.

"Lots of people do that, but yeah; she saved my life," he answered, and Lena saw him take on the same stance he had used when arguing with his mother. His hands were trembling. 

"I was gonna die, and I knew I was gonna die, and there was absolutely no reason why she should have come to save me after what I did; but she came, and she saved me, because that's who she is." 

Winn tore his gaze away from her, almost ashamed he was in this position. Maybe he was.

"She is my best friend. This is the least I can do."

Lena composed herself. She knew he was right. She knew that before she started.

"Okay," she began, gently, "So you don't have permission yet. When did you last ask her?"

And he _immediately_ pointed his face straight down at his shoes. Whatever the answer was, she wouldn't like it.

"I didn't yet."

The Luthor Within was having none of it; and rattled off a host of questions before Lena could stop it, barking them like an angry guard dog.

"You _didn't ask her yet_?"

Winn, to his credit, answered them dutifully.

"I was going to."

"And when exactly would that have been?"

"Thursday! At lunch!" 

"That's what you were talking about when I got there?"

"I was getting to it, but then, you know you showed up, and I can't exactly ask her while you're there-"

"So this is my fault?"

"I'm not saying that!" 

"Did you reschedule?"

"Not yet," and at this point, he held up his hands in protest, "I've been a little pre-occupied, okay?"

The pause gave Lena enough time to regain control of herself. She took in all the information, examined the logic. She couldn't fault it yet. But The Luthor Within, paranoid as ever, kept needling at her that there was something more.

"Look, James tried this once. He asked Kara if he could tell his girlfriend, and it did not go well. And if Kara hasn't told you herself yet, she's got a reason - I don't really understand what that is, but she does - so I couldn't ask her, not until I could tell her this-" he gestured back and forth between them, "-is a sure thing. You know, that it's serious-"

"Serious?" she scoffed, "We haven't even had sex yet-"

"AND WHY DO YOU THINK THAT IS?"

The sudden, desperately raised voice caught her unawares. For the second time that day, the last piece of the puzzle slotted into place, and her heart plummeted to the pit of her stomach. Winn shifted, like he was deciding how to begin to explain what that meant.

"These past six weeks, there's been this line I can't cross. I've walked up to it, leaned over it, even pushed it a little when I knew I shouldn't; but I CANNOT CROSS THAT LINE. Not until you know the truth. 'Cause I know if you got told after I crossed the line; you would never, _ever_ trust me again, and you'd be right not to."

Lena folded the new information into her analysis. It made sense. But it made another question from...

"We couldn't cross the line until you knew," Winn continued, picking up speed and volume, "And you couldn't know until I asked Kara's permission, and I couldn't do that until we were serious and we couldn't be serious until we'd crossed the line and I know that's a circle of logic with a giant gaping hole in it; but what can I tell you, I'm doing my best!"

Lena drank in his frightened, pleading expression. He was terrified. And Lena knew it was because he already knew, on some level, what her next question was going to be.

"How long have you been ready?"

She asked it quietly, gently; it escaped her lips sounding like watching a feather falling feels. But from the way that he slumped, it may as well have been a gunshot.

"HOW LONG?"

A few more moments silence.

"Since the flight home from Metropolis," he confessed. He continued, a few moments later, much more matter-of-factly, "I was scared, you held my hand, pointed out some of the more famous buildings to distract me. You know, threw a few facts in..."

He trailed off with a thudding shrug.

"What can I say? I'm a cheap date."

Lena stood in silence, and watched him squirm under her gaze. She knew it. She'd known he was holding back. She just... didn't think it would be for something like _this_.

"Please say something."

She let him squirm for a few moments more; then spoke, softly and slowly at first, but gaining momentum as her anger took over.

"This... _whole_ time, you have been telling me you wanted to take things slow-"

"I did want to take things slow-" he interrupted.

"Shut up!" Lena yelled. She took a breath, and controlled her voice. 

"Every evening we've spent together - and we've had some great ones; some of the best of my life, in fact - after every evening, I had to go, and spent the night alone at my hotel, just _wishing_ you were there with me, because you'd been hurt before and you weren't ready and now it turns out you've been ready this ENTIRE TIME?"

He didn't roll his eyes; but from the rest of his body language, he may as well have. He'd _explained_. Why wasn't that the end of it?

"What? Are you going to tell me you _didn't_ have to fight your lesser angels on this? That there wasn't a _single_ night you weren't tempted? Not Christmas Day, or the L-Corp party?" 

His unwillingness to meet her gaze told her all she needed to know.

"I guess that phone call Monday night really helped you dodge a bullet-" she said, facetiously.

"That's not-"

"When I was stood in front of you on Wednesday, after your father died, HUMILIATING MYSELF in my underwear; was the problem that you _actually_ couldn't process it or whatever you said, or was that just another excuse-

"No!" He interrupted, "Everything I told you was the truth. I was not in any state to take that next step with you that night..." 

And he paused, the look on his face, the tears especially, betraying exactly how bad he knew this was going.

"...But like I said. I could have talked myself into it _so_ easily."

Lena stepped forward, close enough she could pick out the lights reflected in his tears.

"So when you carried me to your bed? And then slept on the couch? Left me all alone, to fend for myself?" she asked, jaw clenched, "Was that to stop you from talking yourself into it? Or was that about not crossing the line?"

And Winn's tearful face couldn't answer.

"Well then," Lena said, stepping backward out of his reach in defiance, "I'm glad we've been able to have this important conversation about honesty. If we hadn't you might have ended up doing something that would make me never trust you again."

Her words were curt, almost venomous. But this wasn't The Luthor Within. This was all Lena.

"Good luck with your mother," she said, and stormed away.

"Lena, wait-" he pleaded.

"Not anymore."

Those were the last words she said before she left the lab, stepped forcefully though the post-attack clear-up back to Winn's desk to get her coat; and then left the DEO - and Winn - behind.


End file.
